// think of the sun that shaped them //
Once he seemed to get the hang of it, Lena returned to her own speed. Deftly and quickly, the hood was assembled, pieced together neatly and efficiently. She brought it up to survey once or twice, ensuring the black thread was difficult to see through the rest of the garb, before she began to work downwards, intending to add some pockets, then meander along the arms and cater to her own size, rather than the lump of ill-fitting rags. “I can’t say that I have,” she hummed, eyes narrowing in brief speculation. Any of that would’ve been left behind – back at home. “We could always pick some up.”
His loud shout made her pause, flinch away from her own work – eyes going to see his progress, before it all fell out anyway. “But now you know how to do it,” she murmured with an arch of her brow, a promise of conviction. “It’ll be easier this time.”
His loud shout made her pause, flinch away from her own work – eyes going to see his progress, before it all fell out anyway. “But now you know how to do it,” she murmured with an arch of her brow, a promise of conviction. “It’ll be easier this time.”
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
